


Preparation

by Much_Ado_Abt_Novels



Series: Mechanics and Mandalorians [13]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cult Recovery, Din is a good teacher, F/M, Learning to shoot a blaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28650390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Much_Ado_Abt_Novels/pseuds/Much_Ado_Abt_Novels
Summary: Din gets you ready to fly away with Boba by teaching you to shoot a blaster. He's a little nervous, ok?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Series: Mechanics and Mandalorians [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052387
Comments: 18
Kudos: 124





	Preparation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Foxilayde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxilayde/gifts).



> How many times did I type "gun" before sighing, backspacing, and replacing it with "blaster"? Seven. I hate Star Wars. 🤣

The package sat on your bed, reminding you of another gift Din had given you ages ago. Except this one was wrapped in plain brown paper, not iridescent foil. It was roughly the length of your forearm and hand. You carried it out to the main hull where Din played with the baby on the floor. “What’s this?” you asked, holding up the package.

“Open it.”

You tore the paper and uncovered a black case. The case clicked open with two latches to reveal a sleek silver and white blaster. “Ooh.” You pulled it out of the case.

“I had that custom-made for you. Isn’t it beautiful?” Mandalorians sure were proud of their weapons. “It comes with a holster too.”

You turned the blaster, examining from all sides. “It’s gorgeous. But Din, I don’t know how to use it.”

“That’s why we’re heading to the middle of nowhere so I can teach you to shoot.”

He was going to teach you to shoot a blaster? “This, this is so cool, Din. Thank you!” You set the blaster carefully back in its case then threw yourself into a hug.

“You’re welcome.”

On a random, nearly abandoned planet of calf-high grass, Din set up a target of stacked stones. The baby played nearby, his little head just peeking out over the stalks.

“You can take off the helmet if you’d like,” you said. You couldn’t get enough of his face now that he was showing it.

Din glanced around at the open plains. “Here?”

“Is that a problem?” You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “There’s no one around.”

“I guess it shouldn’t be. I’ve been only removing it in the  _ Crest _ so far, but I should get used to showing my face in other places as well.” He didn’t move. “It’s hard. I still feel shame every time I take it off, this deep-seated shame that’s been conditioned into me. That’s not going to go away overnight. It’ll take time to unlearn.”

You touched his arm. Around you, a breeze danced through the grass. It was so quiet and peaceful out here, but Din couldn’t feel the wind. He was trapped in that helmet.

“I’ve been defined by a strict interpretation of what a Mandalorian is for so long—my whole life. I don’t know who I am anymore without it.”

“You’re a loving father, a fierce warrior, and a hot boyfriend.”

He put his hand over yours and ducked his head. “Thank you.”

Your heart ached for him. “What can I do to support you? Do you want encouragement to take the helmet off more, or should I let you do it at your own pace?”

“Encouragement would be nice.”

You tapped your new blaster hanging from your hip and inspected the makeshift target. “You know what would really inspire me before this lesson? A ‘you can do it’ kiss.”

You could almost feel Din smiling under the bucket. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lift it off and set it on the ground. He stepped in front of you and, yes, he was smiling. Cupping your cheeks with both hands, he pressed his lips to yours. It was soft and sweet and loving.

“Yep,” you said breathily when he pulled away, “I’m ready for anything now.”

The tension dropped out of Din’s shoulders. “Thank you,” he said, touching his forehead to yours for a moment. “Time for that lesson.”

“Let’s do it.”

Din led you several yards back and told you to aim at the stones.

With two hands, you brought the blaster up to chest height, then angled it slightly downward to point at the nearby target. It looked so close. Did Din have so little faith in your abilities, or was this how all novices had to start?

“Shooting is very simple,” Din said. “You line up the target in your sights and move the trigger while disturbing the rest of the blaster as little as possible. Give it a try.”

You peered down the blaster’s sight, putting the red dot at the center of Din’s rock stack, and squeezed. The blaster recoiled, and the shot missed. “You said it was simple. Is my stance wrong?”

“Don’t worry about stance. If you’re balanced and not falling over, your stance is fine. I don’t even care about how your grip looks. All I want you to think about right now is putting the target in your sight and moving your trigger finger without moving the rest of your hand.”

You tried again. This time you were hyper-aware of your fingers, and you felt how your middle finger jerked a fraction as you pulled the trigger. The blast of energy scraped the edge of a rock.

“That was better!” Din encouraged. He stepped so close behind you that you could feel his beskar breastplate. He brought his arms up around you to support yours and helped you aim at the target. “Just breathe,” he said, running his hands up your arms and over your shoulders. Unmasked, his breath tickled your ear. “Relax.” He squeezed your shoulders once and stepped away.

It was suddenly difficult to do either of those things, but you tried.

“Now tease the trigger, just with that single finger. Don’t squeeze your whole hand.”

Your shot hit the middle of the rock pile, sending it tumbling into the grass.

“Dank ferrik!” Din slapped his thigh. “That was excellent!”

Preening under his approval, you grinned. You had hit that target square-on, and Din, the munitions expert, was proud of you. “So why have you decided to get me armed and dangerous all of a sudden?”

Din’s gaze tracked the child through the grass. Was he avoiding looking at you on purpose? “It’s time I stopped sheltering you and started preparing you. Especially if you’re going to be jumping around the galaxy with Boba Fett.”

Your blaster dropped to your side. “You think I’m going to need to  _ shoot _ Boba Fett?”

“No! But your life is going to become more dangerous when you’re around him. I want you to be able to protect yourself.”

You sorted through all the possible meanings of Din equipping you with a blaster now that you’d decided to date a second man, too. Then you resolved to take his words at face value: he was understandably worried that being with Boba Fett would expose you to unsavory individuals, and he knew he couldn’t keep you locked in the  _ Crest _ forever just to keep you safe. This was a practical skill to impart.

Din restacked the stones. He said, “Now let’s try shooting from a draw.”

The rest of the afternoon progressed smoothly. Your confidence grew, and you were able to hit the target from a farther range.

Din was pleased with your progress. “That’s enough for today,” he said eventually. He scooped up his helmet and slapped your butt. “I’m going to take you back to the Razor Crest and fuck your pretty little ass for a while.”

You froze in the middle of picking up the child, instantly horny. “You’re going to fuck me in the ass?”

Din stopped too. “That wasn’t what I meant. But.”

The grass rustled. You both tried to read each other’s minds, but sadly, the baby was the only one with mental powers here. “I would be okay with giving it a try,” you said.

“Have you ever…?”

“No," you said. “Have you?”

“Yeah.”

“Giving or receiving?”

He quirked an eyebrow. He was getting better at controlling those facial expressions. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

\---

“We’re going to take it nice and slow, all right?”

You and Din were naked, and you were bent over your cot, tingling with nerves and anticipation. “All right,” you said.

Din slid his hands up your back. “Try to relax.” He massaged your shoulders until you sank into the cot, releasing a deep breath. “Good.” There came the snap of a lube bottle opening. “Just a finger,” Din reassured you as a coated digit circled your butthole. “Have to prep you.”

Gently, the finger pressed inside you, and you moaned.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you can go deeper.”

He did, dragging the finger in and out, then adding another after confirmation that you were still comfortable. His fingers were thick, stretching your hole and smearing lube all around.

The experience was strange but not unpleasant. Your muscles were unused to being touched this way.

“Can I fuck you with my cock?” Din asked.

“Please.” You intentionally relaxed more, smoothing your hands out on the mattress. His fingers were removed, and his dick pressed at your entrance. You could feel the moment his tip breached your hole—it was intense—and you could hear from his sigh that he loved it too.

He held there for several long heartbeats. Then slowly, he eased forward, then back, then forward again, inching a little deeper each time. “How does this feel?”

You struggled for the words to describe it. “It’s not hitting pleasure nerves the way vaginal sex is. It’s more like _pressure_. But I can tell that you’re enjoying it, which turns me on, and there’s a fullness—I’m feeling a lot of things, and added up they are very good. How is it for you?”

“Good. You’re so damn tight.” He grunted. “I’m picking up the pace. Tell me if you’d like me to stop or slow down.”

“Okay.”

The sensation centered around your opening, and you could feel each inch of him in exquisite detail as he dragged his cock in and out of you. His hands gripped your waist.

You had to remember to breathe. “You know what I want?” you asked.

“What?”

“I want Boba to fuck my pussy while you take me like this.”

Din groaned. “Fuck. Yes.” He moved faster. “Finger yourself. Pretend it’s him.”

You obeyed, and it was overwhelming how hot you were getting. Now there was stimulation coming from two places, one you could control and one you couldn’t.

“That’ll happen one day if I have anything to say about it.”

“ _Din_.”

“I’m close, but I want you to come first. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded wildly. You rubbed at your clit as the pressure built, and then you were squeezing around him and rocking into your hand, orgasming.

Din groaned again, louder, and spilled his load into your ass.

\---

It was a month later that you got the news from gossip in a cantina: Boba Fett had killed Bib Fortuna and taken over Jabba the Hutt’s criminal empire. You and Din bought the man talking about it a drink and plied him for further details, but he didn’t know much beyond the basics. Fett had seated himself on the throne, executed all the major players who refused to swear to him (there’d only been a few that stupid), and was now holding court at Jabba’s Palace on Tatooine.

Big plans, indeed.

“Do you think he still intends to send for me?” you asked Din later when you two were alone.

“I’d count on it. But he won’t make a move until his position is more secure. There’s a lot of uncertainty in periods of transition.”

You had to wait another whole month, listening to fragments of gossip when you could get them. Fett was doing well for himself. He understood the business operations of the criminal organization because he’d worked with it for so long. He commanded respect and fear from those under him.

Din could feel your hesitant eagerness, and he brought back news of Fett whenever he heard it. The two of you speculated about what he was up to, what his long-term plans were. Finally, Din called you excitedly into the cockpit. “It’s Boba,” he said. “He wants us to come to Tatooine.”

He was there when the  _ Crest _ landed in the Mos Eisley spaceport. He sauntered up the ramp flanked by a woman with a large blaster and hair woven with red thread. Boba, the woman, Din, and you met in the  _ Crest’s _ hull. Two men in helmets and two women without.

The stranger gave you a good once-over and smirked. “Oh, she is just as pretty as you said she’d be.”

“When have I ever lied to you, Fennec?” Boba asked.

He was so familiar with her. Who was she to him? And what would happen now that you were reunited? You nearly bounced on your toes, you were so eager to speak with him.

Boba addressed Din. “Mando. I’ve been keeping tabs on you. You seem to be doing well for yourself.”

“Lots of work for a bounty hunter these days. You haven’t been doing so bad either.”

“Everything has gone according to plan so far.” At long, long last, Boba turned to you. “Hello, princess. Did you miss me?”


End file.
